


Back in time

by Shaybee2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kid John Watson, Kid Sherlock, M/M, Potterlock, Slow Build, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:21:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8382454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaybee2/pseuds/Shaybee2
Summary: Starting with John's first meeting with Sherlock as children at Diagon Alley, they strike up a friendship that leads them through the wars and trials of the magical world and the muggle world, as teenagers and adults. They go through their important years of Hogwarts and after, living a life full of excitement and danger, while trying to come to terms with their feeling for one another. They chase together cases of both Magical and Muggle, while trying to keep the envitable magical war from taking them under.





	1. 1982

1982

When John Hamish Watson and Harriet Watson turned eleven years old, they were thrown into one of the biggest changes of their lives. They both recieved a letter saying they were to be admittied into Hogwarts school of witchcaft and wizardry. Their mother had taken them into John's room and explained to them, how important this part of their lives would be. She took great care telling her children, that when she was their age she too had recieved a letter that said she would attend this prestigious school, and that everything leading up to her life now was a result from it.  
The only thing that John could really remember was how angry his father was that day. He had never been told about his wife's secret life, he was never told the potential his children could have, or the fact that their was even magic. He became distraught as he watched his wife bring magic into their house, and the children would watch in delight as she would transfigure pots and kettles into birds of many different colours, or charm the dishes into washing themselves. He yelled and screamed for answer to her secrecy for days, the only reply she gave was that she had to hide her magic for so long because of the current war. 

That year was 1982. The year that John crossed all barriers of his known life and became a wizard. John was both scared and enamoured by the prospect of something new. His mother always said that the unknown and dangerous always excited John, and the idea of magic was certainly new and dangerous to him. He finally understood why he accidentally made his sisters things dissapear, or why when he yelled and scream at her, his voise would suddenly go mute without reason. It was also the year that John's father began drinking to cope with the new addition of weirdness in their life.  
When John first went to Diagon Alley with his mother and sister, he felt a sense of wonderment as they approached Ollivanders. Mr Ollivander took great care and thought when placing both John and his sister's wands in their hands. John's wands was eleven inches, rosewood, with a unicorn hair in the core. Harriets was twelve inches, cherry wood with dragon heartstring. John loved the smooth instrument in his hand. He could feel a sense of buzzing all around him, like magic itself was dancing around him, licking at the core of his soul. Harriet bounced off the walls in excitement because her wand was an inch longer than Johns, and had a tough dragon as its core. Their mother chastised Harriet for her behaviour, and explained how each wand was different, and each witch and wizard had a different sense and feel for magic, and the wand will take hold and prove it.

They later went into several book stores to pick up their standard books for the first year, all their equipment, and their mother had decided to pay for an owl for them to share. John fell deeply in love with a muddled brown barn owl. His feather were soft and siken, his eyes were deep and dark, and he danced around hooting, playing John right under his wing. Harriet wanted a cat, se loved the small little black kitten staring up at her with curiousity, meowing slightly, as she tried to reach through the cage with her dainty fingers to pet it. Mrs. Watson eventually caved in and both her children a pet each. John named his owl Gladstone. Harriet named her cat Lilith.

Robes were the next thing to come by, Mrs. Watson only purchased basic robes, but saw fit to the children being fitted. Harriet explained to the woman measuring her that she wanted to stand out at school, be popular and the queen of the entire school. When the woman asked John what he wanted, he just explained he wanted to be as normal as any other child there. Mrs. Watson smiled at her son, and chuckled at her daughter sweetly for her enthusiasm. They left bags full to brim of items for school, and stopped quickly for an icecream. 

John looked over as they sat down at a table and ate their icecream. He observed a child looking over at his mother, and what John presumed to be his older brother with pure hatred. The boy was yelling at them, explaining that he should be going to school early becuase the classes that his mother and father gave him underneath his level on intelligence and skill. The older boy huffed and rolled his eyes causing the younger boy to stand up and walk away. The boy walked over to the icecream counter and stared down at the frozen treats muttering to himself. John removed himself from his chair, telling his mother he wanted to go look at more choice of icecreams so he knew what to get next time without being rushed when i all honesty he was just curious about the child fuming to himself.  
John walked over next to the boy and pretended to stare at the treats. He used his peripheries to watch as the boy continued to mutter to himself about how stupid his mother and his brother were. John smiled to himself as the boy shook his head angrily, his mass of black curls swishing everywhere and his eyes filling with more anger. John noted that the boy was a fraction or so shorter than him, but since he shoulders were hunched and his posture bent over glaring at the sweet treats he couldn't really tell.

"Just choose you Idiot!" The boy yelled at him.

"That's rude." John said as he stared in surprise at the boy.

"Who cares. You're obviously new here otherwise you wouldn't be taking so long to decided. Though looking at you, you're not a muggleborn, but you're damned near close to it." The boy growled as John looked continued to stare at him in surprise.

"Wow, how did you know that I was new here?" John asked in excitement.

"Oh come on. You're looking at everything like it's all brand new information, you seem to understand some sense of magic cause you're not surprised or excited when people are performing in front of you, you are just interested in everything else. Like you're observing in all new information." The young boy crossed his arms in a strop.

"That's amazing. What else can you tell by looking at me." John was pratically beaming with enthuisam at the new boy, who now began to look a little confused.

"Well you obviously come from scottish heritage, as your hair seems to take on a little red tinge in the light, though if you were to stay out in the sun long enough I would say it would go completly blonde. Your skin is normally fair, but you currently have a slight tan to it, so you must go outside to play frequently, something a wizarding child rarely does, unless they have their own property, or their parents watch them constantly if they're in front of muggles. Your family is well off, but from the smell of it, your father is a bit of an alcoholic. The smell has still lingered on you. Your Mother is a witch, thats how you came into your magical inheritence, but she didn't tell you until you recieved your letter to school I imagine. You have an older sibling, most likely a brother considering the bruising on your forearms, indicating rough housing, or a lot of fighting, and considering the hand spread I would say a male from that. Did I leave anything out?" The child finished staring at John with pride.

"That was bloody amazing. I can't believe you knew that all from just looking at me." John beamed at the boy.

"That's not what people usually say..." The boy said sofly as he gazed at John questioningly.

"What do they usually say?" John asked.

"Piss off." The boy said softly, causing John to laugh boisteriously.

"Well, I can't say that, Mum's right over there. You did however get one thing wrong." John smiled as he looked over his shoulder.

"Oh, and whats that?" The boy asked as he to looked over John's shoulder.

"Harry may be the oldest, but it's like by five minutes. She's also a girl. Just has big hands, and a mad temper." John laughed again at the dark haired boy who shook his head in disbelief.

"There's always something." The boy muttered.

"My names John Watson. It's nice to meet you." John extended his hand the boy.

"Sherlock Holmes." Replied the boy as he took John's hand warily.

"That's an interesting name. I like it. I have to go now, but I hope I can meet you again one day. Maybe at school." John smiled as Sherlock smiled back slightly.

"I still have awhile to wait. I'm only seven." Sherlock replied as he looked at John.

"Wow, you're tall for seven. Perhaps we can meet again somewhere else, like here, when I'm on break. Mum would definetly be able to bring me." John smiled at the boy reassuringly.

"That would be nice, I guess. You're not nearly as dull as other people." Sherlock spoke softly.

"Mum do you have a pen?" John shouted over at his mother frightening Sherlock slightly. 

Mrs. Watson nodded and reached down into her purse pulling out a pen for John to come claim. John pulled Sherlock along by the arm as he grabbed the pen and smiled at the boy as he pulled the glove off his hand and quickly jotted something down onto the boys hand. Sherlock watched in interest as John wrote something down with a strange looking object, it rather hurt a little too cause it felt slightly sharp. John finished and looked over at his mum giving her back the pen. Sherlock looked down at his hand in awe as he saw a name and an address written down on the back of his hand in ink. Sherlock looked over at the object John's mother had placed back into her bag, and thought to himself that it must be a muggle writing tool.

"Now you can write to me if you like." John smiled brightly at Sherlock who just looked back in surprise. "Mum. If Sherlock write while I'm at school can you tell him where I am staying, or does the post cover that?" 

"The post covers that John. I'm sure Sherlock here will know how to contact you at school." Mrs. Watson chuckled, while Harriet looked over curiously.

"Cool. Well It was great meeting you Sherlock. Please write." John said as he took his bags and his sisters bags in both hands and nodded to the boy as the family toddled off to the entry way at the Leaky Cauldron, their little trolley fulled to the brim with books and parcels.

1982 was a year that changed John's life. He and his sister left on platform nine and three quaters on an old red steam engine. He travelled across a huge lake, with a terrifying giant squid inside it to reach his school, while he was directed by a man who was almost the size of his house. He was sorted into Gryffindor with his sister right ahead of him. He met some amazing friends called Mike Stamford who was in Hufflepuff, Charlie and Bill Weasley, brothers both in the Gryffindor house. Charlie was a few year older than him and Bill as well. He also met Sherlock's snobby older brother who was in Slytherin. He was a posh old git and was in his fifth year and refused to give anyone the time of day except for a former student who kept coming back to discuss his internship with something called the Aurors, with Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore.

John learned his love for potions, even if Professor Snape was a bit cold and demeaning. He loved defense against the dark arts, herbology, flying, history of magic. The only thing he grew bored of was Muggle studies. But the best thing was that someone other than his Mum wrote to him all the time. Sherlock Holmes, the boy with a million thoughts running through his head, and a million answers to give if anyone had any. 

Unfortunatly it was also the year that John's mother divorced his father, and he began drinking more to cope with what his children were. John fought constantly with his father, trying to show that he was not scared of who he was, and what he could do. It was also the year his mother moved to London, causing a huge rift between the lines of his family. The only person John talked about this to was Sherlock.


	2. 1985-1986

1985-1986

 

In 1986 Sherlock started Hogwarts, he was more than keen to start and excell above all the other students. He already had a sound understanding of the school and how it ran because of Mycroft. He understood all of the teachers, and their teaching behaviours, what they wished from students when it came to marking time and exams, and above all John Watson was there. Sherlock wanted more than anything to see John. He was the only person in this world that Sherlock believed to be, not dull. Which confused Sherlock greatly. The boy that Sherlock had met all those years ago would now be in his fourth year of Hogwarts, and would have a much more sounder knowledge of magic then when he first learnt it all those years ago.

John was still writing to him every week. They met up under the watchful eyes of both their parents to talk, play, just do anything together, but what Sherlock loved most of all was the fact that John loved danger. Sherlock was danger incarnate. John's first time in meeting up with Sherlock again was in the Ministry of Magic, and they wiggled and wormed there way into the Department of Mysterys. Hiding at any opportunistic time when personnel drifted by, and they found themselves diving into hidden archives of magic more wonderous than Sherlock could have hoped for. Sherlock's mother worked as an Unspeakable at the time and her job was in located in the time room. So Sherlock had a theory of where everything was when it came to finding each room in the department. His mother liked to talk in her sleep when she was worried or something at work was causing her distress. Sherlock dragged John in the multiple layers of the department, investigating room after room. When they were found in the archive almost a full two hours later, reading some really questionable dark magic. Unfortunately for them, Mr. Lucius Malfoy had found them in the archive, and he was certainly gunning for a promotion in the ministry. Sherlock's mother faced an inquiry at work for Sherlock's behaviour, and John had never seen his mother so angry in his entire life. He promised himself never to run head first into anything Sherlock said ever again. 

John failed to keep his promise the next time he saw Sherlock they had gotten into his father's case files. Sherlock had been very intrigued by the work his father was currently progressing through. The victims in question had been poisioned by acromantula venom, but there was no record of any acromantula ring in Britain at this current time, the only one he could find was in Spain. Sherlock flicked through the pictures with John, constantly asking him questions about the bodies,. But John really had no idea about any of it at all, though he was very excited to help Sherlock in his quest. When Sherlock's father brought home a big round egg, the size of a soccer ball. Sherlock of course took it upon himself to hatch the creature that dwelled within it. Of course it only took Sherlock a few minutes to figure out what to do to progress the egg to hatch faster. Needless to say it only took a couple of hours for the creature to be released and John to be sent to St Mungo's first floor for Acromantula poisioning, and for Mr. Holmes to recieve and inquiry of his own at work. Sherlock never stopped apologising to John the entire time he stayed in hospital, which of course was only a couple of days. Mrs. Watson decided then that boys should be doing visits at her house instead, saving another trip to the hospital for future cases considering the Holmes line of work.   
The next few times Sherlock and John tried to stay out of trouble. Though nearly setting the house on fire for a cookie experiment, and cutting off the hair off Harriet's dolls, just for something fun to do. It wasn't exactly keeping out of trouble, it was good enough for the boys. Mrs. Watson absolutely adored Sherlock's quick wit and observational skill just like her son did, but knew when to draw the line when he asked probing questions about her married life. Whenever they were out an about Mrs.Watson watched them like a hippogriff. 

One such case was when she took them out into the muggle world for some shopping. Sherlock was intrigued by everything and anything that came across his path. He questioned why everyone drove cars, or rode bikes as mean of transportation instead of walking everywhere. He asked about all the little tools and toys that would come across his way and how they could possibly help Muggles further their speed and success in building things. It wasn't until Mrs. Watson took them into a discovery shop that nearly all the questions stopped. Sherlock was fixated on a small little chemistry set that was displayed on the top shelf behind the counter. It was shining and gleaming with glass beakers, tubes and flasks. There was a little bunser burner next to it with a little paper flame attached to the top of it, and twenty or so little jars filled with solvents and acids.

 

"Mrs. Watson is that a muggle potion kit?" Sherlock asked pointing at the display. 

 

Mrs. Watson looked over at the little kit and smiled down at Sherlock softly. The boy loved anything to do with potions. He was curious about life and death, could observe nearly every little particle on a person an know nearly exactly what was going on in their life, and still want to and needed to know more. The only thing that Sherock seriously lacked in knowledge was social interactions between people, and the solar system. 

 

"Yes Sherlock. That's a chemistry set. It's very similar to potions, but uses acids and bases to find a cause or to create an effect. All life stems from the ideas and notions behind chemistry and physics. Muggles find differnt ways through these to find out the mysteries of life. It's even been known to help solve police and auror cases." Mrs. Watson winked as Sherlock looked back in awe at the Chemistry set.

 

"John come look at this." Sherlock yelled excitedly as he grabbed a hold of John's arm, pointing at the set again.

 

"The chemistry set?" John asked in confusion.

 

"Isn't it fascinating John. Muggles have found a way to involve potions into there lifestyle." Sherlock grinned happily at him.

 

"Yeah, we did a little in science, but nothing involving those. We learnt mostly about the earth and our bodies, nothing else though." John explained to Sherlock.

 

"What did you learn about John?" Sherlock continued.

 

"Not a lot. I wish I could have learnt more, but Mum is teaching me stuff about the human body and how it works, it's really cool." John said as he looked at his mother.

 

"Mrs. Watson do you know anything about chemistry?" Sherlock looked over at her, almost pleading with his eyes.

 

"Sorry Sherlock. I only know the chemistry that makes up the human body, and how to heal it." 

 

"Are you a mediwitch?" Sherlock looked at her quizzically.

 

"Close. I'm a nurse. I work on muggles and what can heal their bodies." Mrs. Watson continued as she looked at the set with a smile.  
"How about I get this for you Sherlock, as long as you promise not to cause anymore trouble for the rest of week." She winked as Sherlock beamed enthusiastically.

 

"Really?" Sherlock yelled in surprise.

 

"Yep, but you're only allowed to play with it if I'm supervising. I don't think your parents would know to much about this." She laughed as Sherlock bounced up and down excitedly.

 

"I'll pay it off, I swear!" Sherlock looked confidently at Mrs. Watson causing her chuckle at the boys tentacity.

 

"Ok, Sherlock." 

 

Sherlock continued to play with the set every time him and John were together. Despite them getting into hundreds of shennanigans over John's summer and winter holidays, they were usually found expanding their minds in Mrs. Watson's kitchen. John with his biology books open, or one of his many assignments for school, and Sherlock reading one of the many chemistry books that John had borrowed from the library in town. 

Even as John began his teenage years he still stayed with Sherlock, which was something the boy couldn't comprehend. When John turned fourteen and Sherlock eleven, Sherlock was still certain that he would stop communication with him. The thought of John doing that hurt, but it was always present in his mind. The idea that Sherlock was too young, too annoying, too troublesome was always on the forefront of his mind. But John took it in stride, and told him when he was being a bit not good.  
John loved the excitment and danger that Sherlock created when they tried to figure things out together. It bothered both their parents and Harriet to wits end, but there was no stopping them when the two were together. Harriet had always despised Sherlock, and John's relationship, finding it annoying. She always told John that Sherlock was too young to be friends with him anymore, what would people think if they saw him hanging out with a first year when entered Hogwarts. John just responded with 'people will just talk I suppose'. Harriet did everything she could for John to see reason in her claims, but he kept shooting her down. Whenever she talked to her mother about it, she would just sigh at Harriet and explain that Sherlock was the first ever wizarding child that John got to know, there is an emotional attachment for him there, and age shouldn't affect a friendship. When Harriet told her father about John's friendship with Sherlock, he sneered and told her not to talk to him about some strange child that John is now friends with. 

Sherlock had only ever met John's father once, he knew he had alcohol problems, gambling promblems, and often called John's mother claiming he would take her back in a hearbeat if she would just stopped with the magic and put the kids into a normal school. Mrs. Watson started ignoring all phone calls from her ex-husband, and waited for the kids to get home if they wished to call him. He came one time during John's holiday's during third year while Sherlock was staying with them for a night. He came pounding at the door like a drunken baboon screaming out for Mrs. Watson to open the door. She stood pressed up against the side of the door, hoping and pleading for him to go away, she was muttering to herself about whether or not she could summon enough courage use some form of spell to whisk him away. Sherlock ever observant watched as she begrudgingly opened the door to the wild man. He came stumbling in, reeking of whiskey and smoke. John quickly stood up chest puffed out and chin high as he looked at his father. He pushed Sherlock behind him along with Harriet. Sherlock could feel Harriet trembling beside him, and John holding steady to his nerve. Brave, strong John, holding onto all his courage.

 

"How could you?! How could you?!" The drunken man spat in John's mother face.

 

"How could I what, Hamish?" She shouted back.

 

"You take them away. You allow them to pracitice that nonsense and make them into something abnormal. How could you?!" He shouted as he pointed to John.

 

"It's in their nature Hamish. They can't hide it. They can't ignore it. It's what they are. They are special children." She spoke loudly as she tried to move her way in between the children.

 

"We don't want to hide it either." John spoke up bravely, forcing Sherlock and Harriet to stick behind him as the larger man approached them.

 

"You want to be freaks? Is that it?" He bellowed, only now taking notice of Sherlock standing behind John. "Is that one of them. One of those freaks!"

 

"Sherlock is not a freak! He is my friend and he is amazing, and brilliant!" John shouted back. 

 

Sherlock watched as Mrs. Watson tried to pull the man away with all strength, as he inched closer to John. Harriet took her oppourtunity to run into the kitchen, trying to pull Sherlock with her. But he wouldn't budge. Sherlock stood his ground behind John, his eyes flickering over the man's dishevelled appearance. He could see the obvious signs of alcoholism etched into every corner of the mans enraged face. The red spider veins climbing on his nose, the bleary blood shot look in the eyes. numerous crumbs and stains on the mans skin, indicating he was not even aware of what was clinging to his face, and the staggering violence he was emitting from the focused look he had on John.

 

"He is a little freak John. I have see enough to know a freak when I see one." Mr. Watson echoed through the house. 

 

"Then perhaps you should look in the mirror. Your staggering appearance tonight tells me that you have been drinking most of your hours away. Your eyes are blood shot, you are exuding violence, the stench coming off you is interminable, and will most likely cling to you for the rest of your life. The fact that you have come here and started threatening your family, and insulted someone you don't even know, shows the inteptitude you share for people of our nature. If I were you, I would feel like a pathetic jealous muggle." Sherlock cracked as he pulled himself away from behind John.

 

John looked beside Sherlock in alarm. He had obviously had enough of being insulted and decided to take things into his own hands. Unfortunatly for Sherlock, was that he didn't really know what he was dealing with, and he had no control over any of his magic as well. He wasn't legal to perform anything to defend himself with. John took Sherlock's hand in his hands and pulled him behind him forcefully again, and gave the boy a angry look, mentally telling him to shut up. Mr. Watson grabbed John by the collar, trying to yank him away from Sherlock. Mrs. Watson now had a hold of her ex husbands torso and was trying to pull the man towards the door as hard as she could. 

 

"You little Shit! How dare you talk to me like that. What gives you any reason to talk to me like that?!" Mr. Watson raged loudly.

 

"Leave him alone Dad!" John screamed, tears running down his face as he turned in the mans grip harshly. His arms encaving Sherlock's skinny frame to protect him from any harm.

 

"Mum!" Harriet screamed, as she came rushing back into the room with Mrs. Watson's wand, pointing it at her Father who was still holding John in his hands. "Let him go Dad! I swear I will use it!" 

 

Mr. Watson sneered at his daughter as she continued to point the wand at him. His hands tightened around John, encaving the boys throat. Harriet looked at her Mother, who was still trying to pry the man's arms away from John's throat. The grip around John's throat squeezed him severily. Sherlock was now fighting at the man's hands, using his nails to dig into the skin hard, even going so far as to bite the mans arm when he could see the pressure force on John's throat. Harriet started hyperventilating, her mind muddling in fear at her father. She mustered a huge amount of courage and started to think of a possible defense spell to fly her father away, but nothing was coming to mind. John looked down at Sherlock, biting his father's hands, clawing at the fingers, trying in vain to free him. He could feel his mother tugging hard behind his father, trying to fight against the weight and strength of her ex-husband. John could see Harriet freaking out in front of him, trying to find something in her head to use against her father. 

Sherlock cried as John choked and struggled against his father. He felt something tingling against his body where John was holding him tight. He felt something like this before from his brother, but not as intense as what he was feeling now. He could feel magic building around him, encloving him and John. This was incredible. John was unconciously building his magic for something huge. Sherlock continued to struggle with Mr. Watson's hold on the boy. John gave out one choked scream and everything exploded in a loud bright bang. Sherlock's entire body was wrapped in John's arms. John had forced with all his magic into a huge explosion. His Mother and father had flown across the room on one side, and Harriet had been pushed back. The wand in her hand dropped to the floor in fright. Sherlock felt the warmth tickling his body, it was unbelievably intense. He had never felt magic this strong in his life, not even his brother could have produced something like that intentionally. John looked down at Sherlock, who was looking up at him in awe. John was freaking out, he arms were burning, his body was aching and his mind was muddled mess. He looked around the room and saw his mother trapped underneath his father. He quickly released Sherlock who felt the buzz of magic leave him, and pulled his unconcious father off his mother. 

Mrs. Watson was lying against the floor in disbelief. Sherlock quickly followed John to help Mrs. Watson, up and noticed the way she looked at John. She was scared and impressed all at the same time. She had obviously never witnessed something like this in her life as well, and would know all to well what the possibly concequence for something like this could be. Harriet ran over to all of them and wrapped her arms around her mother tightly. She grabbed John's hand in hers and shook her head, crying with relief. 

 

"We have to go to the ministry John. Even with this being in defense it is still illegal for you to use magic at this age." Mrs. Watson spoke softly as she looked over to the man beside her, still unconcious to the world.

 

"Mum, what's going to happen to me?" John worriedly asked.

 

"Nothing, Sweetie. We will get it all sorted out." She said sweetly as she grabbed his face and pulled it against hers. 

 

"Mum? What about Dad?" Harriet cried as she looked over at her father.

 

"You won't be seeing him for a while, you probably won't be able to see him again." She sighed, standing up and taking her children's hands.

 

John grabbed Sherlock's hand, interlocking his fingers with his, keeping him close and tight. Mrs. Watson looked down at Sherlock and looked down worringly at him. Sherlock knew that he was going to have to talk about what happened in the room, and that something bad may happen to him as well. Sherlock squeezed John's hand tighter and nodded at Mrs. Watson who took them over to the floo. Harriet went first, then Sherlock, and John. Mrs. Watson took a moment longer as the kids waited on the otherside, looking sorrowly at the golden statutes of the waterfall in front of them.  
Sherlock wasn't too sure what had happened after in entire thing, he told his peace to the minister about what happened and then was forced to go home with his parents before he could find out what was to happen with John and his mother. When he asked John a couple of hours later, he was told that he was allowed to go to school and nothing too bad had happened. Though Sherlock knew otherwise.  
Sherlock never heard of anything to do with Mr. Watson again, unless it was when John was remeniscing about something from when he was a child. Harriet changed for a short while after the incident as well. She was a lot calmer and a lot less boisterious, but soon came back to her normal self. John, was still the same, but not at the same time. There was always something hidden in his mind when he talked about what him, his sister and mum did during holidays, or when he talked about home in general. Sherlock knew that John was blaming himself for something, but he never inquired about it, because he knew it would be 'a bit not good'.

 

1986 was an amazing year for Sherlock, he was sorted into Ravenclaw. He already had an arch enemy, named James Moriarty, who was in Slytherin. Best of all though, he had John with him all the time. The first few weeks together, they had already scoped out parts of the Dark Forest and had gotten caught by the half giant, Hagrid. They had been caught in the restricted section of the library by Filch, cause Sherlock wanted to learn something besides first year charms. McGonagall also had to pull them aside when Sherlock took John's broom and rode it around the campus chasing after a fourth year girl, who had placed a love potion into one of John's friends, Charlie's drink, and had been caught stealing more ingredients from Snape's potion's closet.  
Sherlock loved the excitement of going to Hogwarts. It was something new and dangerous. Something that could keep his busy mind preoccupied. He loved how his houses portrait door would give riddles to get into the the dorm. He loved trying to figure out all the other houses passwords to see if he could sneak into the dorms unnoticed. He loved his classes, hated certain teachers, loathed most of the other children in his House or just around the school, and learnt how to convince professor Mcgonagall that whatever he was doing to get into trouble, was just to solve a case or a puzzling problem. It was one of the most exciting thing Sherlock had ever experienced. 

1986 was one of the years that Sherlock had committed to his mind palace, it was spaced near the first time he met John, the last time he saw his beloved Crup, Red Beard, and the fall of the Dark Wizard, Lord Voldemort, by Little Harry Potter. It was the year that Mycroft was promoted in the Ministry of Magic, and was in the middle of helping the current Minister delgate punishments for known Death Eaters. Which was one of the most exciting things Sherlock had ever heard of his brother doing.


	3. December 1987: The Geoffery Graves Case

December 1987: The Geoffery Graves Case Part 1.

 

Sherlock loathed 1987. He was in the middle of his second Year at Hogwarts, and it was also the year John got a girlfriend. Though mind you it only lasted about the first half of the school year. John had started to ignore Sherlock's needs for this Sarah's, and that was just not on, in his opinion. She was nice enough Sherlock understood, but she just had to be stopped. She was putting a halt on plans, on lessons, on puzzles and on the bloody cases. Whenever Sherlock was sitting with John in the quiet of the library, reading and writing down all of the work that John was currently working on, and that Sherlock was craving on learning. She would come sauntering in with a shake of her hips and plop her stupid hufflepuff butt right next to John and distract him with her stupid shiney smile.  
Molly who was also in hufflepuff, and one of Sherlock's less than dull friends, would listen to him complain all day about that Stupid Sarah, and her stupid face. Molly knowing all to well, that Sherlock was just a little jealous that John was now giving his attention to someone else, just nodded and sighed in agreemement. Molly liked Sarah. She was actually a really nice person. Popular, smart, cute, and an amazing flyer when she played as one of the chasers on the hufflepuff Quidditch team. She also helped Molly out with a lot of her work.   
Sherlock insulted Sarah whenever he got the chance to do so. He would nitpick about her slight behavioural keys, that he learnt from observing her with John, he would sneer at her when she tried to suggest an observation on one of their cases, and would roll his eyes when she would whisper something provocative into John's ears, which caused John to become a stuttering mess, and completely droll. Sherlock loathed this woman so much it almost hurt to physically look at her.

 

Sherlock stayed alongside Molly for four months of John's dating. Helping her with her work, watching as she played around in the herbology labs, following her into her library, to escape the stupid faces of John and Sarah kissing each other in the Great Hall. It wasn't until Sherlock became so fed up with it that he shouted in anger into his pillow and groaned that he finally started to think up of a plan to remove this girl from John. 

 

"Molly, do you know of anything happening around the school at the moment that needs to be solved?" Sherlock asked as he pieced together an idea.

 

"Well, Lestrade from the Auror's office came down the other day again. Apparently there has been something happening, but not directly in the school." Molly said as she thought back to a couple of days ago.

 

"What's happening?" Sherlock asked, feeling a little excited about the idea of a case.

 

"Well, a boy from your house apparently committed suicide during the summer holidays." Molly said forlornly.

 

"Oh, yeah. The Graves kid. I thought he just transferred and thats why his friends were crying." Sherlock said.

 

"Sherlock, there was a memorial and everything, how could you have forgotten that?" Molly asked in concern.

 

"Wasn't important at the time." Sherlock shrugged.

 

"And John's relationship with Sarah is?" Molly chuckled slightly, while Sherlock threw her a filthy look.

 

"So what do we know about the Graves kid suicide?" Sherlock asked, eyeing the girl with mild irritation.

 

"I don't know anything Sherlock. If you want to know then I suppose you will just have to ask someone who work at the ministry." Molly shrugged.

 

"But Mother will say no if I ask for case files. Maybe I could ask Father, but he would just get suspicious again." Sherlock spoke more to himself then to Molly.

 

"What about your brother, he could get them for you." Molly suggested as Sherlock puffed out a laugh of air.

 

"Yeah, sure. Ask Mycroft. I'm sure he would love to know his crazy little brother wants to solve a case." Sherlock chuckled disdainfully to himself.

 

"Get John to ask him then." Molly said as she looked down beside her for the anatomy book John was lending her.

 

"John, ask Mycroft? That's stupid." Sherlock huffed. "Molly stop suggesting stupid things."

 

"Fine, Sherlock. Don't listen to me and be miserable." Molly sighed as she opened the book and grabbed a piece of parchment and quill, choosing now to ignore Sherlock since he was being cruel again.

 

Sherlock knowing that he was being ignored huffed again and left Molly to her studies. Molly sighed as she heard a pile of books slam to the floor and Sherlock yelling at someone to move out of his way . She could hear the muffled voices of John and Sarah asking him if he was okay, but all they got in return was a shout at for being stupid again and not knowing anything. Molly closed the book and moved the parchment from her lap and waited for the silence that would indicate that Sherlock had left the library.   
Molly quickly made her move and flittered down to the entrance of the library, finding John looking staring where Sherlock must have left and Sarah trying to get John's attention back on her. John closed his eyes and sighed, leaving Sarah's arms moving a little closer to Molly's concerned expression.

 

"Any idea what that was just about?" John asked in confusion.

 

"Oh, he just really needs as a case, and the way to get the information he needs is to either talk to his father or ask Mycroft." Molly explained.

 

"What's the case." John's interest piqued.

 

"Well, Geoffery Graves comitted suicide over the holidays as you know, but Auror Lestrade was here the other day, enquiring McGonagall and Dumbledore on some information that could have possibly be left out. So, of course Sherlock wants to know and find out a bit more about the case." Molly said. 

 

John was almost bouncing on the spot he seemed so excited about the prospect of this case. John laughed to himself after a moment knowing that Sherlock wouldn't ask either his Father or Mycroft for the information, as I would be detrimental to his belief that he could do things himself. 

 

"Alright Molly, I'll ask Mycroft for the information. I doubt he would deny me the request, as it would put Sherlock in a better mood. And I know for a fact that he is getting sick of his surly behaviour lately." John laughed.

 

"I wonder why he could be in such a foul mood all the time." Sarah asked john, who shrugged his shoulders unknowingly.

 

"Yes, I wonder too." Molly sighed sarcastically to herself, knowing that John would catch on quickly.

 

"You know why he is. Don't you?" John asked, his eyebrow raising. "Is it a girl?"

 

"Ha! No!" Molly laughed loudly. "Just get him the information he needs and he will be happy."

 

John watched as Molly walked of the library heading of down towards the hufflepuff basement . John knew there was a lot that Sherlock was hiding from him lately. It had a lot to do with the fact that him and Molly were getting so much more closer than normal as well. Perhaps there was something there? John thought to himself. He quickly left the library without even a goodbye to Sarah, in his haste to owl Mycroft for some information about the Graves case.   
He headed off to the Gryffindor common room to see Harriet talking to one of her friends on the couch. She was cosying closer to the girl who had her arm wrapped around her comfortingly. John quickly said a hey to her and ran up to his dorm to find Mike on his bed concentrating throughly on the Ancient Runes essay they have to have done by tomorrow. He quickly grabbed his ink and quill, with a small piece of parchment and jotted down a note.

 

Mycroft,  
Sherlock has been very irritating and depressed for awhile now, as you are fully aware of. I found out today that Auror Lestrade is doing some work on Geoffery Graves suicide. I know It's out of line, but would you mind to terribly if you could send over some of the information about the case and couple of the photographs so Sherlock could give it a look over. I reckon it would cheer him up immensely to have a case to pour his brain over.  
Hope you are doing well,  
JW.

 

John quickly folded the piece of parchement and placed it into envelope with Mycrofts name and address. He waved over to Mike, who was still struggling to comprehend what has happening on his paper, and headed off down stairs into the common room, bidded a quick hi and bye to Harriet again who looked perturbed at John going in an out. John exited the portrait and headed over to th owlery in the west tower of the school. 

 

John ran over his thought of what could possibly be irritating Sherlock lately, but nothing was coming to mind. He seemed to be horrible to everyone lately, and whenever he was excited about something, he would get irritated later again when John explained he had plans with Sarah. John was aware that Sherlock had a slight issue with Sarah. She wasn't like him or Molly, or anyone Sherlock really got along with. She was popular and preppy, clever, but not too bright. She was normal. She did have some faults that he was aware of. She put too much time in her friends and thinking about parties in the Great Hall that they could throw. She was sweet, maybe a little too sweet. It got a little irritating to be honest, especially with other guys. Sarah wasn't really aware when she was being hit on, and the fact she just went with it unawaredly annoyed him greatly. She didn't like adventuring out with Sherlock on cases, which was something John missed doing alot. She was just happy to snog in the common room, or join in at a party with one of her friends. She didn't really like Sherlock all that much either come to think of it. Everytime he spoke she would roll her eyes, or mumble something under her breath aout it being strange, but she would never call him a freak. John grumbled a bit thinking about it again, and shook his head trying to eliminate the negative thoughts he was starting to think about Sarah. She was nice, she was sweet. Her and Sherlock would just have to get along if they wanted to be involved in his life.   
John quickly took the turn around the corridor coming across Peeves floating along in the hallway, sticking gum in to the keyholes of the doors again. Something that was very likely to annoy Filch. John smiled to himself as he imagined the caretaker the next day trying to remove ll the gum from the locks, it wasn't nice, but it was a funny occurance in the school that seemed harmless enough for John to laugh at. Luckily For John the Bloody Baron came floating along the corridor. The poor Poltergeist was shuffled off and threatened by the Bloody Baron, which allowed John to get past him without any irritation or teasing.

 

John reached the owlery and found his owl, Gladstone sleeping on a little perch next to Sherlock's spectacled owl Bee. John smoothed his finger against the soft feather of Gladstone, before rolling up the letter and placing it into the little carry tube on the owls leg. Gladstone gave John's fingers a little nip as John told him to be careful on his trip to Mycroft's. John looked over to little Bee, and scruffled the feathers a little while the bird hooted happily at the affection.

 

"You wouldn't happen to know what wrong with Sherlock, would you?" John asked the owl, who just continued to hoot happily.

 

John smiled and laughed at the owl, letting his fingers be nibbled by the bird. He scrounged around his pockets for something for the bird to eat, but came up short. He sat down on the floor, probably not the wisest move considering the mess on the ground, and sighed. John started to close his eyes when he heard shuffling along the steps of the tower. Black curly hair came into view as it walked in the open doorway and stopped.   
Sherlock looked shocked as he saw John on the ground with Bee now nibbling the blond locks of his hair happily. Sherlock nodded and walked towards them, noting that John just gave a small smile when he approached. Bee flew over to Sherlock landing against his shoulder, now starting to nibble and preen through Sherlock's curls.

 

"What brings you up here John?" Sherlock asked, cautiously.

 

"Getting someone a present, they have been a little moody of late and I thought it would cheer them up." John smiled as Sherlock looked down at him curiously.

 

"Ah, well I hope they enjoy it." Sherlock responded, feeling a little miffed at the idea of John buying other people presents.

 

"I'm sure they will." John chuckled, removing himself from the ground. "So what's bringing you up here?" 

 

"I thought I would send a letter to father. I'm enquiring about a case he could possibly be on." Sherlock said.

 

"Graves? I think Lestrade is on that one. Molly tells me he was here the other day."John said, ruffling the back of his head, trying to figure out how to stop Sherlock sending the letter to his father.

 

"Yes that is what Molly says." Sherlock said, looking curiously over at John again.

 

"Well, I wouldn't send the letter to your father. You would probably be disrupting some kind of work at the moment." John laughed nervously.

 

"I suppose your right, as usual. But there would be no harm in asking, the worse I could get is a no." Sherlock continued to eye John.

 

"Or Mycroft could find out, and it could be worse." John laughed again, wrapping his arm around Sherlock, scaring off Bee from Sherlock, as he tried to usher Sherlock out the door.

 

"John, what are you doing?" Sherlock asked.

 

"It's getting late Sherlock, and what kind of Prefect would I be letting students walk the corridors at night." John said as the reached the steps.

 

"John, thats stupid. You constantly sneak out with me at night time, and all the times you do it with Silly Sarah as well." Sherlock growled.

 

"Well, this time, I have a feeling that we could be caught, and I know for a fact that Filch is going to be very irritable tonight considering Peeves has put gum in all the locks of the surrounding corridors." John said, looking down at Sherlock. 

 

"Fine." Sherlock grumbled. John smiled down at Sherlock irritated expression and ruffled his hair.

 

Sherlock had a run in with Peeves in the beginning of the year that still upset him to this day. John had warned Sherlock of the poltergeist's fondness for creating cruel names and songs, but Sherlock believed he could entice the poltergeist in some sort of deal when it came for help around the school. Needless to say it didn't work. Peeves had tormented Sherlock with any chance he got when he saw the young boy in the same corridor as him.

 

"Silly, Stupid, Sherlock."  
"Snotty, Sulky, Shirley."  
"Shameful, Selfish, Sherlock." were some of the things Peeves would jeer out. 

 

Peeves had fun trapping him in closets, throwing things at him as he passed, though he did it to a lot of students who got in his way as well. John had also been a victim of some of Peeves hijinxes from time to time, but he knew how to deal with him now. Especially if he was irritating him with Sherlock in tow. But with Peeves insulting and tormenting Sherlock on a nearly daily basis, it didn't take long for others to notice it.  
Students would later join in the taunting and jeering after realising Sherlock was a little different from them. They would close in around him and call him names. Sherlock would just stand there and take their abuse with a snide comment or a shrug of his shoulders, but John knew better on how it was affecting Sherlock. He would chase after the humilitaed boy, and wrap his arms around him. Mumbling just to forget everything he heard, and the he wasn't a freak, he wasn't a sociopath. He was remarkable, brilliant, funny, and above all his best friend.  
It wasn't long before more violent things would happen to Sherlock. He was beaten severly one day and taken to the infirmary for Madame Pomfrey to look over him. In potions class someone would try to spill some of their concotions on him, set his robes on fire, or cast some ridiculous curse on him. John had found him one day frozen in the library under a table. He had to pull him out of the library with Molly following closely behind him. Madam Pomfrey gave him a once over and helped unlock the boy from a Petrificus Totalus and sent him on his way with John and Molly. The most common of people to be the one to perform these spells was Moriarty. A snide little boy who had some sort of vendetta against Sherlock. 

 

John hugged Sherlock into his side a little tighter as they walked a lot closer while thinking about Peeves and Sherlock. Sherlock noticing this looked up over at John, seeing his grim face. Sherlock sighed and let John escort him back to the Ravenclaw tower. Once they reached the portrait and it laid it's riddle for Sherlock, he turned to look at John. He just smiled as brightly as he always does, causing a tight feeling to squeeze itself across Sherlock's chest. Sherlock smiled back at him and nodded his goodnight softly to John and entered the portrait and walked up to his dormitory.


	4. 1987: The Geoffery Graves Case

1987: The Geoffery Graves Case Part 2

Sherlock walked down into the Great Hall for breakfast, finding his way to the Ravenclaw table, sitting next to a some kid named Anderson. He looked over at the Gryffindor table to see John animatedly talking to his friend Mike, and chomping into his toast with great appreciation. Sherlock gazed over to the Hufflepuff table to see Molly munching on something while still fixated on the anatomy book John had given her, and Sarah looking over at John, trying to get attention somehow. John seemed completely oblivious to her trying to get his attention, as he was now looking over at Sherlock smiling widely. Sherlock could feel that tightness increase in his chest again as John waved him over to join him and Mike for breakfast. Sherlock scowled a little into his chest as he tried to repel the compressed feeling, while walking over to John. John moved over so he could sit in between him and Mike, and reached over for another piece of toast and a sausage.  
Mike started talking about his Ancient Runes essay over with Sherlock seeing if he could help him with any of the information that he could have possibly missed. Mike was often in trouble with this class, and Sherlock had no idea why Mike was taking the subject if it troubled him this greatly. Sherlock pointed out several mistakes along the page to Mike when a screeching could be heard over head, indicating the daily mail was in-fluxing into the the Great Hall. Sherlock looked above as what appeared to be hundreds of owls were flying above them, each looking for it's own master. Sherlock could see John's barn owl with an incredibly large manila envelope, happily flitting down next to him. John took the package off him, and gave the owl a little scratch on the head while feeding him a couple crumbs of toast to him.

 

John pulled off a little envelope that was stuck against the parcel, opening it to read it. Sherlock, watched as a smile spread against John's face, and a couple of chuckles came out of him as he read the letter. John folded up the letter and placed it inside the envelope. John got up with the parcel in hand and tapped Sherlock on the shoulder, gesturing him to follow him. As they reached the corridor outside the Great Hall John turned to face Sherlock with his stupid smile again. John handed Sherlock the parcel, which weighed a considerable amount.

 

"The gift I was getting was for you Sherlock, I know you will enjoy it immensely. But don't open it up in the Ravenclaw tower. Come to me when you want to look over it a little more and talk to me about it." John said.

 

Sherlock opened the parcel gently, looking over at John curiously. Sherlock pulled out one of the many thick pages out halfway and gazed down at what appeared to be a case report on the Graves suicide. Sherlock's mouth open stunned as he looked over to John who was still smiling excitedly at him. Sherlock flicked through a couple of the pages to find pictures of the crime scene, information about what had been at the crime scene, and a report from a mediwitch who had gone over the body.  
Sherlock pushed the pages back in the parcel shaking his head in disbelief. He wrapped his arms around John quickly and hugged him tightly without even realising what he was actually doing. Sherlock coming to on what he had done pulled away quickly and coughed in discomfort as John looked at him in slight shock. Usually he was the one to initiate some sort of physical contact with Sherlock.

 

"Well, you must really like it to do that." John laughed scratching the back of his head. One of those irritating quirks he did when he was embarrassed.

 

"Thank you John. How ever did you get it though?" Sherlock asked obviously impressed.

 

"I asked your brother last night. You have been so moody lately, that I thought a good case would make you happy. Plus Mycroft has some sort of power over Lestrade so I knew he could get it easily." John explained happily.

 

"You asked Mycroft?!" Sherlock exclaimed.

 

"It wasn't hard. I just spoke about your current attitude, and that you having something to look at, or a case to go through would pick you up." John smiled, as Sherlock thought back to last night with a smile.

 

"Explains why you were so adamant about not mailing my father for the reports." Sherlock nodded to himself. "Are you going to help me with it John?"

 

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" John asked in confusion.

 

"Well, Sarah might get a little bored, and it could take a while." Sherlock shrugged as he looked over to the Great Hall, noticing said girl was coming out of it looking for John.

 

"She'll deal with it I imagine. Just let me break for Quidditch practice though." John laughed as Sherlock nodded.

 

Sarah walked over to them smiling, looking down at the parcel in Sherlock's arms, obviously having observed that John was the one to receive it at breakfast. Sherlock nodded to her with a slight smile, and John kissed her cheek softly as a welcoming hello. Students started flooding out of the Great Hall indicating breakfast was finishing and that classes were about to start for the day. Sherlock looked over to see Molly smiling happily at him as she walked from the hall finding him with John and Sarah.

 

"I'll see you after third period in your dorm?" Sherlock asked.

 

"Sure, we can go over it through to lunch, and then I have to go for Quidditch practice. You can meet me there again afterwards if you like." John nodded as he let go of Sarah.

 

"Can I watch the practice John!" Molly asked enthusiastically.

 

"I suppose, but no giving this one here tips about what we were doing." John laughed nudging Sarah shoulder jokingly.

 

"Cool. Sherlock I will meet you there as well?" Molly asked, smiling over at him.

 

"I suppose so. " Sherlock sniffed, watching Sarah grab for John's hand to lead him away to class.

 

"Great. I shall see you after third, and you at practice." John said nodding to the two as he was being lead away towards their class.

 

"Come on Sherlock, we have potions." Molly said, pulling Sherlock by his robes.

 

Sherlock walked along with Molly in tow. He quickly deposited off the package in his dorm in his trunk to hide, and grabbing his potions books before heading off to the dungeons with Molly. When they sat down at their tables bringing out all the little piece of equipment from the potions closet, they started looking over the black board to see what today's potion was going to be. Sherlock grimaced as Anderson next to Molly when he brought out his equipment, and started going over the list of ingredients. Molly pulled out her belongings as well and looked over at Sherlock, who now seemed to be sporting a small flush to his face. Molly shrugged it off as just him being irritated with having someone that he didn't really like sit with them again.  
Professor Snape came sauntering into the room, scowling impressively as the sight of the students readying themselves for class. He began preparing the ingredients, explaining in a drawl, greasy voice each property of what they were squishing and cutting, and how each one would affect the potion. Sherlock looked up to Professor Snape who was now shaving a graphorn horn in tiny fragments. Sherlock copied the procedure to perfection, and watched as Molly struggled to keep things in the same length. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the horn from the girl and shaved it evenly for her, and deposited it into her cauldron before Snape could see it.

 

Molly hummed a thanks of appreciation over to him, and looked over to see Anderon struggling with it as well. Molly looked at Sherlock expectantly, hoping he would help him as well. Sherlock huffed in irriatation and just grabbed the product from the boys horn from his hands. Anderson about to shout something, stopped when he noticed Sherlock shaving the horn for him perfectly. He handed it over to Anderson with a scathing look and sniffed at Molly who smiled happily over at Sherlock.

 

"That's the last time Molly." Sherlock grumbled underneath his breath, causing her only to giggle slightly.

 

As they waited for the potion to finish brewing, which according to Snape was something that could take a bit of time. They copied notes of the board and some in the books, on different properties of the billywig stigs, and what they could be used for in different potions. Sherlock already knowing this information from John's notes when he was in second year, wrote down little extra pieces in his book that Snape left out. Once he was finished Sherlock closed his eyes and driftied off into his own mind.  
He could see John smiling brightly over at him again as he was handing him the parcel, and could feel the stupid hug he had given him in over excitement. Sherlock shook his head stupidly, feeling his face go hot and red as he thought about John again. His chest tightly restricting him again. Sherlock ran over the possible ides of why he could be feeling like this. Molly looked over at Sherlock, who was still currently shaking his head, obviously trying to remove something from his mind. 

 

"Sherlock, are you okay?" She asked worryingly.

 

Sherlock stopped shaking his head and looked down at her. She was grabbing a hold of his shoulder now. He could notice that she was taking in his red features now, and that his breathing was becoming deeper and a little uneven. Sherlock nodded his head quickly, saying he was fine. The feeling in his chest kept tight for the rest of the class. Snape even pulled him up on the fact that the boy was flustered, and questioned whether or not he had attempted to drink the potion to early, reiterating that drinking the antidote to uncommon poisonings too early, could cause mild fevers and eventual poisoning itself. Sherlock gave professor Snape a derisive look for suggesting something stupid in the first place, which earned him a loss of five points for his house.  
After potions Molly bidded Sherlock goodbye as she went off to herbology with the Slytherins, and he went off defense against the arts. The irritating feeling of tightness did fade away eventually. That was until he thought back to John from this morning, and the heat would come back to see cheeks again. He would just shake his head clearing his thoughts as quickly as possible and looked to concentrate fully on the rest of the classes for the morning.

 

*

 

John ran up to his dormitory as quickly as he could, knowing full well Sherlock would be waiting in there, rather then waiting outside in front of the portrait for him. He quickly spoke the password 'apertus' which is probably one easiest passwords they have had, and Sherlock being Sherlock would have figured it rather quickly. He walked in, seeing Sherlock laying across his bed, pictures and case reports strewn across the bed spread in front of him. John smiled, finding the imagine all to familiar and cute and dropped his books on the ground to sit on the bed next to Sherlock who was deeply engrossed in a toxicology report on Grave's body. John looked over Sherlock's shoulder to read the report with him.  
Sherlock quickly handed him the report after he was done with it, and looked down at another report that was going through the crime scene. John noticed several plant ingredients that were highly toxic with human congestion, but these weren't even remotely wizard like. These were poisons of wrongly consumed food. John shook his head in confusion, seeing a combination of taro leaves, elderberries and the leaves, and a weird mix of toadstools. So two of the poisons were cyanide and a kind of amatoxin. If untreated these would naturally cause death in anyone. But the death would be horribly painful.

 

John placed the report down and looked over Sherlock's shoulder again for information about the crime scene itself. The boy had been found laying on the ground face down in a bathroom, most places where suicide victims seemed to be found, and there was a large empty vial laying next to him, with traces of the toxins found in it. It certainly did seem like a suicide given the situation, but there seemed to be something more to it.  
Sherlock looked at the picture of the body closely, examinging any slight differences, or trauma that could have been missed by the medical report. John looked over the report again seeing that the patient had slight abbreations against his back and arms, there was also small bruising along his hips, and neck. This indicated to John that Grave's was in a sexual relationship, and that they were slightly harsh with one another.

 

"What can you see John?" Sherlock asked.

 

"Well Grave's has been in a sexual relationship, that much I can tell." John replied with a bright blush on his face looking back at the toxicology. "Also these posions are a bit strange for wizards or witches. There has been cyanides and amatoxins found in his system, and traces of taro leaves, elderberries and their leaves and toadstools. That really strange." John said looking at Sherlock, who also looked perplexed and slightly flushed at the mention of the sexual relationship of the victim.

 

"And are these common muggle foods John?" Sherlock questioned.

 

"No. Well elderberries can be, but you have to boil them, cook them, actually quite a lot of things before you can consume them. I think Taro is more common in asian countries, but you never eat the leaves. But everyone knows you're not suppose to eat toadstools. That seems like common knowledge for everyone considering the colouring."John explained.

 

"True. When we were younger we watched our grandmother prepare elderberries and it seemed very pointless to consume something that took so long to prepare. It was very delicious though." Sherlock hummed as he looked back at the reports. "The sexual relationship though seems a bit odd." Sherlock hummed as he looked at the report, his face still flushed brightly.

 

"Why?" John asked looking over at the blushing boy.

 

"I didn't know Grave's had a girlfriend." Sherlock answered dismissevely.

 

"Sherlock, I doubt if you even knew the kid was dead the way you pay attention to the people around you sometimes." John laughed, causing Sherlock to scowl a little. "The only time you notice people is when something seems off."

 

"You are not far from wrong there, John." Sherlock grumbled, placing his head on the reports in exasperation.

 

"Perhaps we should ask some of his friends if they knew he was dating anyone?" John said, ruffling his fingers through Sherlock's tangled curls.

 

"Fine. But you can do the questioning when you have the time. You know how I detest talking to idiots." Sherlock said shaking his head away from John's fingers before the pressure felt to good.

 

"You have to ask to Sherlock. He was in Ravenclaw after all." John sighed removing himself off the bed.

 

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked eyeing John as he checked his watch.

 

"Getting ready for Quidditch practice. Might as well get changed here since you're still prattling on." John said pulling out his quidditch from his trunk.

 

"Fine." Sherlock said, looking back down at the reports. "By the looks of the body it does seem like a suicide. But it seems to clean to cut, almost perfect in the way the body looks. Almost as if someone has done research for this before it was done." Sherlock hummed to himself as he listened to John take his robe off, trying hard to concentrate on the paper in front of him. 

 

"Well Grave's wasn't exactly stupid Sherlock, he probably knew what he was doing, and I reckon people who contemplate suicide often think about it before doing it." John said. Slowly looking down at the ground and stopping his movements.

 

"I suppose you're right John." Sherlock said looking up at John when he noticed he stopped moving, and seemed to be in deep thought. "John, are you alright?"

 

"Yeah." John said shaking himself out of thought. "I'm fine, just lost track of my thoughts for a second." He laughed, scratching te back of his head again.

 

Sherlock noted the nervous tick and left the subject closed, knowing that it was most likely a touchy subject that he was thinking about. Sherlock looked back down at reports and flicked them around in his hands before placing them back in the parcel carefully. John quickly removed his shirt and tie, when Sherlock looked back up at John in slight concern. John's face was constricted tight in thought, his lips pursing slightly. One his shirt was fully removed John stood there with his Quidditch shirt in hand as he began shaking his head, removing the thoughts. Sherlock flushed at John's tanned chest and buried his face into John's bedding, trying to ignore the older boy now putting on his shirt and changing his pants.  
When John was completely changed he sat back down on the bed and raked his fingers through Sherlock's hair playfully, chuckling at the younger boy's lightly flushed buried face. Sherlock grabbed the files as he lifted his head up to meet John's happy smiling face. The fingers slipped out of his hair as John stood back up and nodded to he door for Sherlock to follow him downstairs for quidditch practice. As they passed the common room John found Harriet sitting on the lounge in the common room with her friend again, working hard together on one of their divination essays. 

 

"Not coming down to watch me at practice today Harry?" John asked as Harriet shooked her head no, still trying to concentrate on her essay.

 

"Professor Trelawney has given us a constellation essay. We have to figure out what will be said in our star charts for the month." She responded as Sherlock snorted to himself at the ridiculousness of the class.

 

John looked down at Sherlock with slight chuckle, knowing that he was trying to be polite not to say anything on the matter of divination classes. Though it did go notice by Harry she just sighed into her paper and looked up Sherlock. 

 

"As much as it pains me to agree with you Sherlock, yes this assignment in particular is incredibly painful and stupid." Harry muttered, earning a bright grin fom her friend.

 

"And as much as it pains me that you agree for me for once, I still hold my opinions on divinations and why only fools take it." Sherlock chuckled smugly, earning a glare from Harry from across the common room.

 

"I could have you kicked out of here you know. Nothing to stop for requesting a password change." Harry said, eyes now focusing on the paper in front of her.

 

"Your mundane passwords are easy to crack, besides even if you did get a new one, I could just have John meet me in the Ravenclaw common room, his smart enough to figure out the riddles." Sherlock shrugged, knowing that Harry's threats were just words.

 

"Then why don't you meet there?" Harry asked as her friend was still snickering.

 

"Well, then I wouldn't be able to come in and have these fascinating conversations with you." Sherlock said, earning a side glance down from John, that was a cue for it was a bit not good. 

 

"Time to go Sherlock, you're causing too much trouble again." John laughed at Harry looked up from her paper in annoyance at the younger boy.

 

"Sherlock, one day you're going to say something so wrong and John's not going to be there to save you." Harry yelled out at the retreating figures.

 

"Well that's just bollocks." John chuckled to himself as the exited the portrait.

 

"And why is that?" Sherlock asked as he looked up at John.

 

"Well, I'll always be around to curb what you say. You can't survive without me." John laughed boisterously as Sherlock, waved his arms flabbergasted trying to defend that he could survive without John to come to his aid.

 

Quidditch practice was always dull in Sherlock's opinion. Though it was a delight to see John so happy doing what he knew he could do well. Gryffindor was flying around the pitch in a blur of red and gold. Every now and then John would stop and give a young student on the side lines a few notes. Sherlock had heard his name being mentioned a few times by John and Molly. Something Wood... He seemed very enthralled with the game, very passionate whenever John would give him pointers, he was still too young to join the team though.  
Molly sat herself on the stands next to Sherlock, her notes from potions class tucked neatly at her side, in case some the practice went for a little longer han what she was used to. Sherlock looked over her work and helped her with some of the harder questions that Snape seem to set to make sure the students were paying attention, and were going over some of the notes on the potions that only older students would know. Molly said it was Snapes excuse to cause some point losses for other houses. 

 

Sherlock looked back up at the field watching as John chased around other players, knocking the quaffle right out their arms and scoring a point, cheering to himself as he did it. He looked down at some of the people watching the practice game in the stands and noted that there were a few couple from different houses watching and cheering. Sherlock looked down at one couple in particular. She was a slytherin student, cosing up to a hufflepuff boy, her mouth marking his neck with a few purple brusies. His hands buried in her hair as she continued her assult. Sherlock watched as the girl pulled away from the boy and offered him a drink which he happily took. Sherlock's eyes widened as the boy sipped it happily, and they went back to kissing easily. 

 

"Sherlock it's rude to stare." Molly said uncomfortably as she figured out that Sherlock was fixated on the couple.

 

"Did you just see that though." Sherlock asked.

 

"No Sherlock, Cause I wasn't staring." Molly coughed uncomfortably.

 

"The bruises on his neck, would you say that they are fresh or old?" Sherlock said.

 

"Well I don't know Sherlock, it's rude to even ask someone that." Molly hissed softly trying to Sherlock from looking at the couple.

 

"What about the marks, what's the sense in marking someone?" Sherlock continued, only this time muttering to himself.

 

"When the girls talk about in the dorms it usually has something to do with the fact that people feel an odd sense of possession when in relationships." Molly said, now looking up at the quidditch pitch.

 

"Geoffery Graves was in a sexual relationship with a person that wanted to own him solely?" Sherlock questioned to himself.

 

"Yeah, he said he had a girlfriend." Molly shrugged, looking uncomfortable at Sherlock.  
"It's probably the reason why Sarah constantly tries to leave marks on John, though he never really seems to enjoy it." She said looking at John up in sky smiling away handsomely.

 

"Possession, that's the thing. Possession. What's the girlfriends name Molly?" Sherlock grabbed Molly by the arms in excitement.

 

"I don't know. Nobody knew for certain. Graves liked to keep to himself, thats why a lot of people assume it was suicide." Molly said, wincing at the grip Sherlock had on her arms.

 

"The freshness of the bruises on his neck is something to consider, also how quickly after there copulation did he consume the vial, or what did he think the vial was for." I need more than a toxicology report on this, I need the pathology one as well. I need the levels of dopamine that was going through his body. Any fluids found. I need more information than one Mycroft sent John." Sherlock stood up bringing Molly with him.

 

"Sherlock, calm down." Molly laughed, as his excitement was on overload.

 

"How can I calm down now Molly, I need more information, I need more." He kissed her forehead in his excitement and looked up at John who was frozen on his broom in shock from the display of affection Sherlock just shown.  
"JOHN, I NEED YOU NOW!" Sherlock shouted happily, smile splitting his face in half almost like a mad man.

 

John flew over closer and hopped off his broom in front of her Sherlock. He smiled happily down at the beaming boy, and the blushing Molly, who looked as though she had lost the function to breathe. Sherlock grabbed John robes and started pulling him along in excitement to continue on with the case. 

 

"Hold on Sherlock, I can't just leave the team in the middle of practice." John frowned over at Sherlock who was twirling in a mass of excitement now.

 

"No time John, we need to fire call Mycroft for the pathology report." Sherlock shouted in delight.

 

"GUYS, I'M LEAVING! SOMETHING HAS COME UP." John shouted up at the crowd still floating about the pitch on their brooms looking shocked as John left with Sherlock grabbing his hand and pulling him from the stands now. John groaned in frustration, knowing full well that to shut Sherlock up he was going to have to allowed himself to be pulled along.


End file.
